


Child of Man, a Trickster After All

by Moray



Series: Vol. 33: The Devil [1]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Bad end, Other, Persona 5 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 11:58:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10696563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moray/pseuds/Moray
Summary: A series of prompt-based scenes for the bad end of Persona 5.Rating/warnings subject to change. Reliant on headcanons, with spoilers for the entire game.





	Child of Man, a Trickster After All

**Author's Note:**

> the prompts are from [here](https://kathrineroid.wordpress.com/2011/09/25/100-themes-challenge-writing-prompts/), chosen in no particular order.
> 
> i will do as many as i can...

**1\. Introduction**

The pain had been gradual, mounting over the course of several days before it became debilitating. Behind his skull one day, spreading into the hinges of his jaw by the next--it blinds him one afternoon and Akira allows himself to pass out, falling into the confines of the Velvet Room almost immediately. He hardly ever visits anymore, but he doesn't feel the need to, knowing that almost nothing remains for him here. His arrival is bitter, lukewarm, like tea steeped for too long while waiting for a guest to show.

Lavenza might know--Lavenza knows most of the things that happen in his head, but these days she hovers an arm's length away from her false master's side and refuses to make eye contact with him. He catches her fiddling with that damn bookmark during a lapse in attention, so he takes it and holds it above her head until she finally, finally glares up and into his eyes. "Answer my question."

She doesn't, not immediately, holding his stare for one long, furious moment before ducking back into her book. " _The Fool_  is fading from your mind. In its place, a new mask takes form--I see you becoming more and more like _the Devil_ each day." In the distant background, Igor's form flickers, tendrils of smoke curling off of his clothes. Lavenza looks like she might cry. "I should not have to rehabil-- _serve_  you any longer, but..."

He acquiesces, wrinkling his nose in dissatisfaction. Why the Velvet Room needed to give every person a title never made sense to him, at least not beyond what little sense endless whispers from _the Empress_ and _Death_  and _the Twin Lovers_ could make; _the Devil's_ mounting chants only worsen the din, but for some reason he doesn't mind. "Can you make the pain stop?"

Lavenza shakes her head, almost inscrutably. "Return to your world. The pain will subside on its own once you have embraced your new mask wholly... I believe you are nearly there."

The image of her grief-stricken face has almost completely faded from his mind when Akira wakes, mouth dry, hands leathery, but mind clearer than ever.

 

**2\. Complicated**

"So why don't you tell her?"

"I... I mean, I suppose, but," Makoto sighs, closing her eyes briefly beneath her mask. In the back of the catbus, Ann, Ryuji, and Yusuke doze on top of each other, succumbing to sleep en route to Futaba's palace. Akira stretches out as much as he can in the passenger's seat, watching Makoto out of the corner of his eye. Her fingers grip the steering wheel as a habit more than anything; there's really no need to steer in this barren landscape. "I just can't seem to find the words. Or the timing. Or the right--"

" _Soooo_ many excuses."

She laughs, only a little rueful. "You're right."

"Just tell her. You're making things hard for yourself."

"Well..." Beyond the windshield, rays of heat waver above the sand in tandem with her conviction. "Perhaps you could say it's complicated. But thank you for hearing me out, Joker. I really do feel at ease when I talk to you."

"Sounds simple enough to me," he mutters, turning to stare out the window and missing the amused look Makoto tosses his way. Endless sands, with not even a mirage in the distance, stare back.

 

**3\. Pretense**

"You said this was a _date_."

Goro hisses the accusation with as much venom as an upstanding celebrity in public can muster, despite their lack of audience. It's late--not many people want burgers at this hour. A few teenagers dot the counters, leaving the booths empty; the air between them slowly grows oily and tepid.

"Yeah, well." In lieu of explanation, Akira pulls his standard-issue work shirt, hairnet, and gloves out of his bag. "You can keep me company."

 _He doesn't even try to sound apologetic,_  Goro realizes, barely maintaining his amicable expression when Akira pushes his bag into his hands. It writhes--of _course_  it does, that damn cat is in there as always. "You do realize I had to make time in my investigative work for this? I could be furthering my case on the Phantom Thieves. Instead, you've dragged me here only to cast me aside. What are you trying to tell me?"

Akira shrugs, already turning to head into the back room. When they next make eye contact, he'll look like a model employee--service with a smile, ironically enough. "Sit in a booth where I can't see you."

Goro doesn't feel much like smiling. He dusts off his composure, takes stock of his surroundings. The booth in the far corner is secluded enough that he can read his documents and articles in peace, yet definitely still within Akira's line of sight. He sets Akira's bag down gently next to his own.

"Your owner's social graces are nonexistent." When the cat pokes its head out to survey its surroundings, he gives it a little scratch between the ears. "Would it be too much of me to cause a little grief during his shift?"

The cat squints, wheezes. It must be laughing at them both.

 

**4\. Obsession**

He wakes at five every morning.

Today is particularly chilly, but Akira does not take the time to turn on the heater, instead heading straight into his usual morning routine. Breakfast first, in the stillness of the empty cafe--rice, usually, or salad, but never curry. He turns the television on, ignores it and reads the news on his phone instead. Everything is returned to its proper place by the time he heads back upstairs.

He keeps his body products on the shelves. Having to haul it back and forth is a pain, but the thought of a stray Leblanc customer getting into his soaps and creams makes his hair stand on end. Morgana fidgets as he passes by with his toiletries bag in hand. Usually the cat is awake by now. The cold morning must be making him lethargic.

Akira's schedule spares no time for lethargy, so he goes through his motions with a well-accustomed rhythm. A soft hairband holds his hair back for later styling. Washing his face thoroughly creates a suitable base for moisturizing and makeup. The steps he follows and the products he uses are simple enough--nothing special, but administered with enough care to make him feel like he's indulging.

He finishes with mascara after he changes, mindful not to stain his clothes with the brush. Today he'll wear glasses, as always, so he coats his lower lashes slowly, evenly. Today he'll wear this face as usual.

At six-thirty he returns to his room, where Morgana is still asleep, curled up peacefully beneath his blanket. He should have woken up long ago. The observation is irritating, ruins his carefully constructed morning.

"Hey." Not at all gently, he shakes Morgana a few times, rousing sleepy noises of protest. "I'm leaving. Are you staying home today?"

"Wait-- No! Take me with you." The cat slips into Akira's school bag, promptly falling asleep once more. Grimacing, Akira hoists the bag onto his shoulder. The weight of it disgusts him.

**Author's Note:**

> ah yes my terrible awful bad end boy akira whom i love dearly.
> 
> p5 has consumed my entire life. come chat with me on twitter [@snackdetective](http://twitter.com/snackdetective)!


End file.
